


Information Exchange

by dirigibleplumbing



Category: Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Discussion of BDSM, Early in Canon, Getting Together, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Implied Bottom Tony Stark, Implied Top Steve Rogers, M/M, Misunderstandings, Secret Identity, Steve Rogers tries very hard to be safe sane and consensual, mention of abusive relationsips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 11:51:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18828139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirigibleplumbing/pseuds/dirigibleplumbing
Summary: After a sparring session, Steve confronts Mr. Stark about where all of his mysterious injuries come from. The conversation seems to be going okay, but are they actually talking about the same thing?(Featuring early canon identity porn and Steve’s diligent research into the sexual climate and subcultures of the future, but no actual porn.)





	Information Exchange

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place at an ambiguous time in early canon, where Steve is training Tony in hand-to-hand combat, and Tony still has the chest plate. 
> 
> This is a fill for the free square on my Stony bingo card.
> 
> Un-betaed. All mistakes my own.

“I play a lot of lacrosse,” Mr. Stark says when Steve asks, flashing him a grin from across the mat.

“I thought you said you played tennis,” Steve says, unable to stop himself from smiling back.

Mr. Stark shrugs. Sweat gleams on his arms, highlighting his multicolored array of bruises in various shapes and stages of healing. “Can’t a fella play both?”

“You know what, Mr. Stark?”

“What, Cap? And I just told you to call me Tony.”

 _Now or never, Rogers_ , Steve tells himself. There’s no one else in the gym. No one else in the mansion, in fact—even Jarvis has the night off. Steve might have been planning what he was going to say during this sparring session more than he planned the last three Avengers missions combined. He takes a gulp from his water bottle, wipes his face with a towel, and then he can’t put off replying any longer. “I don’t think you play either.”

Mr. Stark—Tony—quirks an eyebrow at him. “Why would you say that?” His eyes sparkle like gemstones.

Steve holds his gaze. “I’m pretty sure I know how you got all those bruises and injuries.”

The smile slides off of Tony’s face and his body goes still. He sighs and looks away. “I thought you might have figured it out,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Well, that isn’t how Steve hoped this conversation would go. It’s not how he expected it would go, either. “What? What do you—”

“I should have told you,” Tony says.

Steve shakes his head. “It’s none of my business,” he hurries to say. _Much as I wish otherwise_ , he thinks, only a little bitterly. Maybe it can be his business.

Tony frowns at him. “So you’re not mad?”

“No, of course not,” Steve assures him. He starts to take a step toward Tony, then stops himself.

“And I’m not—you still want me here, with the Avengers?”

“Yes! Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t we?”

Tony winces. “I haven’t been honest with you. And—it’s me, I’m not exactly…” he trails off, looking away and shaking his head.

“It’s really none of my business,” Steve says again. “I just guessed.” _And_ , he doesn’t say, _I happened to have been doing a lot of research on the subject and made the connection_.

“You really aren’t—you’re not upset?”

Steve chuckles. “That would be kinda hypocritical of me, I think.”

“Oh.” Tony frowns. “Sure, I can see that.”

“That’s why I brought it up, actually,” Steve says. He can already feel his face flushing, growing hotter just at the thought of what he’s about to reveal—has already nearly said—than their sparring session had.

An unreadable expression passes over Tony’s face before it falls into near total blankness. “Oh?” he says at last.

“Yeah.” Steve shuffles his feet and tries not to look away. “I wanted to ask if—I mean. If you ever wanted to do a, um, a scene, with me, I would—I would like that.” _There!_ He thinks. _I did it, I said it, out loud, to Tony Stark._

Tony stares. His eyes are very blue. “Can you do me a favor?” he asks after a moment. “Can you tell me exactly what it is you’re asking? Just pretend I’m an idiot and have no idea what we’re talking about, for a minute.”

It’s hard to imagine Tony being an idiot, but maybe it’s a consent thing, having Steve spell out exactly what he means. That would make sense with all that Steve’s read about the subject. “I would like to do a BDSM scene with you. Or more than one. If. If you wanted to.”

Tony’s jaw goes slack. On someone else it might look silly, but it just makes Steve pay even more attention than usual to his lips. “Fuck, I,” he stammers, still gaping, his eyes bugging out a little, “I would love to.” For a moment Steve thinks _This is it_ , his risk has paid off, they’ve gotten the truth out there, they’re finally on the same page, and Tony wants to, wants _Steve._ He feels like he could take flight. But then Tony says, “But it’s not possible.”

“Oh,” Steve says.

“I’m sorry,” Tony says, and he sounds it. “I’m sure I could—if you want, I’m sure I know people, discreet people—”

“No,” Steve cuts him off. “No thank you.”

“No one would even have to know it’s you, a lot of people do that sort of thing anonymously, or, if you wanted, I mean, Captain America—or, the, the costume, at any rate—is already a, um, a fixture you could say, of the queer community. But if you didn’t, you’re a good-looking guy, it wouldn’t be difficult to find—”

“No,” Steve says. He realizes that he spoke far too loudly. “No,” he says more quietly. “Thank you, I. I’m not interested.”

Tony nods, his eyes darting all around the room.

“Is it because I haven’t dommed before?” Steve asks. If that’s it, well, he still doesn’t want to have sex with strangers, but he knows scenes don’t always involve sex, or even sexual touching. Steve can practice with other people, if that’s what it will take. It's a skill like anything else, surely. And Steve’s a fast learner.

“No,” Tony says hoarsely. “No, that’s not—I’m sure you’ll be great at it. A real natural.”

“Can I ask why, then?” Steve asks. “Not—you don’t have to answer. I don’t want to pressure you or make you uncomfortable. I—is it because of the team? It’s not against the bylaws,” he adds.

“You checked the bylaws,” Tony says, as if in wonder. Louder, he says, “You’re not making me uncomfortable. I mean, I don’t feel pressured or harassed, it’s okay.” His voice is gentle, and there’s a soft smile on his face.

“Then, why not?”

Tony lets out a rush of air. “I can’t.”

Something occurs to Steve, something he hadn’t contemplated before, and the thought sinks like a lead weight in his stomach. “It is—I mean, I just assumed, and. It is all consensual, right? You don’t have a partner who’s hurting you?”

“No, no,” Tony assures him. “Nothing like that. I’m, I’m not seeing anyone right now.”

Steve’s shoulders sag in relief. “Okay. I’m sorry I pried. I won’t bring it up again.” He turns and starts to make his way across the the gym.

“Wait,” Tony calls.

Steve stops. He faces Tony slowly, barely daring to imagine what he has to say. Tony is watching him, his eyes dark. He strides toward Steve with purposeful steps.

Tony puts his hands on the hem of his own shirt, and Steve’s heart races. His brain is stuttering, trying to catch up with what’s happening. He notes, distantly, that what looked like a regular t-shirt is really something much thicker.

Then Tony finishing pulling the shirt off and—and he’s wearing Iron Man’s chest plate. It’s fitted onto him, the metal pressed against his skin. The expression on his face is at once sheepish and nervous. He doesn’t stop walking toward Steve. “So,” he says, his voice falsely light, “still not mad at me?”

“What,” Steve starts. “What am I looking at?”

Tony’s mouth quirks up on one side, but it’s nothing like the wide showman’s grin from when Steve first broached the topic. “I didn’t get these bruises from S&M.”

No, he didn’t. He got them from fighting alongside Steve. From being an Avenger.

Steve closes the gap between them, takes Tony—Iron Man, his best friend, his two favorite people really one person, the person who made him comfortable and happy and at home in the future—in his arms, and kisses him.

Tony makes a surprised noise, but then he leans in, puts his hand on the back of Steve’s neck, and kisses back. He’s at once warm and firm and soft against Steve’s chest, his mouth parting as he lets Steve in, the chestplate hard and solid against Steve’s shirt.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Tony says, a little breathless, when they break apart.

“You didn’t have to tell me,” Steve insists.

“Well,” Tony smiles softly, “I think I’m glad I did.”

“Does that mean you want to go out with me?”

Tony smile fades into a small smirk, his eyes flickering. “I thought you were asking me to go to bed with you?”

“Now I’m asking something else,” Steve says. He’s still holding Tony in his arms. He fits just right. “Or, how does both sound?”

Tony smiles wide then, and it’s somehow just how Steve thought Iron Man would smile. “Both is good.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know y'all. I've been trying to write 616 for months now and thought some early canon identity porn would be straightforward. I can't tell if I feel weird about this because it's my first time writing 616 or what. Encouragement appreciated. Negative comments will be deleted and hexes cast upon the users. 
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr post](https://dirigibleplumbing.tumblr.com/post/184879050297/information-exchange-dirigibleplumbing-marvel) for the fic.
> 
> Find me [on Tumblr](http://dirigibleplumbing.tumblr.com/).


End file.
